


Lies

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:10:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3562463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catelyn must face the knowledge that Ned has lied to her.  Written for Day 2 (Betrayal) of Cat x Ned Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lies

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own A Song of Ice and Fire or anything related to it. Hope you enjoy!

It couldn’t go on like this, Catelyn knew. There was far too much between her and Ned for them to spend the rest of their lives as they’d spent this week: barely speaking a word to each other. It wasn’t as though they were the only people concerned, either. There were the children; Catelyn had suspected all week that they noticed, and this morning, when Bran had asked her what was wrong, she had been sure of it. She’d tried her best to keep her voice light as she’d told him that it was something between her and Ned, as she’d told him that he needn’t worry, but inside she’d been even angrier than before. Of course Bran worried; he was only eight years old, and how could Ned ever have believed that lying like this wouldn’t hurt anyone?

That wasn’t fair of her. She knew Ned well enough to know that he wouldn’t have believed anything of the sort, that he’d likely agonized over this as he agonized over so many things. But what did it matter what he’d thought? He’d done it all the same. He’d lied to her with his words, and he’d lied to her all over again by acting as though he always spoke the truth when she now knew that that had never been so.

And now the children were worried because they weren’t speaking. After he’d told her, after he’d left her chambers, she’d lain awake thinking up things to say to him if, in the morning, he tried to add insult to injury by acting as though nothing was wrong. But she needn’t have bothered. He hadn’t tried to act as though nothing was wrong.   He hadn’t tried to do anything at all. Perhaps he expected her to break the silence first, but Catelyn couldn’t imagine talking to him without shouting, and that would worry the children even more. She could talk to him alone, of course. But why should she have to be the one to go to him? This wasn’t her fault. She told herself that, firmly, even as she wondered if she could have done something differently. Was there a reason Ned hadn’t trusted her, hadn’t told her this secret years ago? Had she done something to make him think that she wouldn’t keep the truth hidden as he did? Why had he thought that even as they had grown close in so many ways, he needed to tell her this lie? She had never lied to Ned; she had believed, until a week ago, that he didn’t lie to her either. And she still didn’t understand why, even as she told herself—as she knew with most of her being—that it wasn’t her fault, that she had a right to be furious.

But if she wasn’t the one to go to him, she wondered if they would ever talk. As much as she believed that it was his responsibility to try to mend this, she knew why he barely spoke. A part of her wanted to declare that Ned was a cruel, unfeeling man, because that might be easier that believing that he was still her Ned, somehow, and had hurt her like this anyway, but she knew that it wouldn’t be true. She had been able to tell from his voice when he told her the truth that he felt terribly guilty, and when Ned felt guilty about something he was usually silent. When Ned was silent about something, Catelyn usually tried, as gently as she could, to find out what it was so that she could help him. But now she knew exactly what it was, and she didn’t want to help him at all. This was something that he should feel guilty about. But she knew that he was capable of brooding for a very long time if she didn’t do anything to break the silence. And she didn’t want the children to worry, as they were doing already and would doubtless do even more if this went on longer.

_I’m doing this because of the children_ , she told herself as she knocked on Ned’s door that night.

He opened it very quickly, and somehow that made Catelyn angrier. Had he been imagining that she would come, expecting her to turn up and tell him that everything was all right? If he thought that… But she wouldn’t turn back now. “We must speak,” she said.

Ned nodded. “Yes,” he said, and she could tell from his face that he didn’t, at least, expect her to tell him that everything was all right. He stepped aside from the doorway. “Please come in, my lady.”

Once inside the room, Catelyn paused, not knowing what to do. Ordinarily, she would have taken a seat on his bed, but that felt almost too intimate now. Ned seemed as unsure as she was; he remained standing where he was, not speaking. Finally, she sat, though, wanting simply to get on with things. She had come here to speak with Ned. If only she could think how to begin…

“I know you are still angry.”

She started at the sound of Ned’s voice. His words were true, of course, and yet they made the whole thing sound far too simple. “Of course I am still angry,” she said. “Should I not be? You lied to me for fifteen years, Ned. It will take me more than a week to stop being angry.”

“I would never tell you that you should not be angry,” Ned said. “You have every right.”

She acknowledged his words with a nod. “But we cannot go on as we have been doing. The children have noticed that things are not as usual. Bran asked me this morning what was wrong.”

“You didn’t tell him?” Was that all he could think about? Did he still not trust her?

“Of course I didn’t tell him!” she said. “Whatever you may believe, my lord, I am capable of holding my tongue. I told him that it was between us. I told him that he shouldn’t worry, but I know he will! I know they all will, and I won’t have that! They shouldn’t have to suffer for…for…”

“For what I’ve done.”

“Yes,” Catelyn said. They were quiet for another minute. Catelyn wondered what she could say, how she could proceed. A week ago, she’d shouted and nearly cried, almost overwhelmed by the feelings of hurt. But now…now what she wanted most of all was to know why. She didn’t think that would stop her being angry, but perhaps it would make things slightly easier. Perhaps she’d be able to talk to Ned, as usual, at meals, calmly, in such a way that the children wouldn’t worry.

“Why did you tell me?” she asked. She’d wondered, over the past week, if it would have been easier for her to go to her grave not knowing. Would it have hurt her less to always have questions about a mystery woman than to know that her husband had lied?

“I told you that I told Jon when I was at the Wall,” Ned said. Of course he had told the boy first. He’d told her that a week ago, and he’d told her that the boy had been angry too—as if that was supposed to make her feel better about anything! “He was old enough to know, and I decided that I couldn’t tell him and not tell you, Cat. You…you deserved to know.”

“I deserved to know?” she said. “Why now, my lord? I didn’t deserve to know for fifteen years and all of a sudden I do? Pray tell me, what has changed? You can’t say that _I_ wasn’t old enough to know before, after all.” She had come to talk, and she should let him speak, Catelyn knew, let him at least try to give her the answers she sought. But as he opened his mouth to speak, she pushed onwards, unable to stop her own words. “Why did you never trust me? Fifteen years…why did you never trust me?”

“I do trust you, Cat,” Ned said. “Of course I trust you. It isn’t that. I thought it would be safer not to tell anyone.”

He had said the same thing a week ago; it had filled her with anger then, and it was no more palatable now. “If you trust me so much,” she said, “why wouldn’t it be safe to tell me? And who was it you wanted to keep safe, my lord? Your…the boy?” _Your bastard_ , she had almost said. It was how she had always thought of Jon Snow, and the knowledge that it had never been true would take more than a matter of days to truly sink in. “Were you thinking only of him?” she demanded. “Did you never think of how your lie might hurt me? Did you enjoy deceiving me?”

“No,” Ned said. “No, Cat, I never enjoyed deceiving you. Please believe that.”

“How can you ask me to believe you now?” Catelyn said. And yet a part of her wanted to believe him, to be able to trust that Ned had not set out to hurt her. “Answer my questions. If you trust me, why couldn’t you have told me before?”

“We were almost strangers—” Ned began.

“For fifteen years?” Catelyn asked. “Until last week, we were almost strangers?”

“No,” Ned said. “But Catelyn…to tell you something like this…”

He fell silent, seemingly searching for words, and Catelyn realized what he was trying to say. “You did not want to tell me,” she said. “You did not want me to know that you’d lied to me. Is that it?”

“I…Cat, I didn’t wish to hurt you.”

“And why not?” she asked. “For my sake? Or because you didn’t want me to be angry with you? Tell me.”

And Ned looked her in the eye when he answered. “There was some of both in it.” The words stung, even as they had the sound of honesty—the honesty she had so long believed that he always showed.

“So you didn’t want me to be angry,” she said. “Did you think that waiting this long would make me less angry? You…you…you coward.” She could feel herself shaking. “You coward.” Why didn’t he speak? “Is it too hard for you, to have me angry? Is it as hard as knowing that you’ve been lied to for years? Is it as hard as always worrying and wondering…? Do you know what it was like for me, Ned? And you made it like that for me just because you couldn’t face having me angry?”

Catelyn did not want to cry. She had come to talk to him because she had hoped that it might make things easier, because she did not want the children to worry. But she couldn’t think about that now, as she felt the sobs begin. All she could think about was the way Ned had betrayed her and shown her that the trust between them was not what she had believed.

She heard him walk towards her and then pause. When she cried, he usually took her into his arms and tried to comfort her as best he could. But he usually was not the cause of her crying, and perhaps he would not try to do that now.

After a moment, though, Ned took a seat beside her on the bed. His arms went around her just as they always did, pulling her in, and his hands rubbed her back. “Cat,” he said quietly. “I am sorry.”

His words didn’t seem to mean anything. “Do you know what it was like for me?” she asked. “Or what it is like for me now? You lied to me, Ned…”

Yet even as she spoke, she did not pull away from his embrace; she had to fight to keep from leaning her head against his shoulder. She could tell herself that she had only come to him because she didn’t want the children to worry, but then she would be as big a liar as he was. And that was what made her the angriest of all: that after all that had happened, it was still Ned and his comfort that she wanted. She knew that he couldn’t make everything all right again, at least not quickly. But oh gods, how she wanted him to.


End file.
